Dom Donnie. NSFW💜

Yandere fruity four have a whole thing where they cannot see you bleed, not after what happened in the upside down. So when you fall over playing tag with Robin and Eddie outside and get a smallish cut on your leg, all four of them go crazy. They baby you to death and back

* rubs my little rat hands together *

cws: yandere fruity four, blood, minor/major injuries, scars, !!PTSD!!, angelface has aquaphobia, mental illness, trauma flashbacks, panic attacks, choking, drowning, near-death experiences, very mild emetophobia, mild self-deprecation, post-s4, gn!reader.

One of the first days that you wake up and feel that things are back to normal is in June of 1987. The sun is coming out properly now and brightens the yard with soft, summer rays, the grass is growing in enough to start being trimmed, and it's far too warm to stay in bed for longer than an hour past your usual alarm. Indiana isn't too hot yet, so when you crack open the windows to get a breath of fresh air, you're greeted by a comfortably cool breeze that cuts the warmth radiating off the ground.

Much better than the cold and the snow that kept you inside, although that wasn't the only reason. The world beyond the Harrington's front yard is still a little too scary to breach--but you've got a good amount of space to work with, so long as you stay away from the pool and the woods around the back. It's been drained for a while now though, and Steve reassured you he has no plans to fill it back up.

That first day is a good day, it's refreshing. The next week skirts by with a stream of good things piling in; you all built up the firepit to roast marshmallows, Eddie bought a sprinkler at a garage sale, Nancy and Robin have started buying seasonal fruits and cutting them up to make little salads. There's not much you have to worry about with your new life, but there are obstacles--and you're happy to say you've overcome one when you're especially full of confidence one afternoon, and peek into the garage to ask if Eddie can bring the sprinkler out. Obviously he says yes, a smile on his face as he tugs his gloves off and rolls out from beneath the van, excitedly grabbing the hose and hooking it in so he can take it out and set it up on the front lawn.

You were planning just to run it and watch, maybe stick your hands or toes in to cool off, but Robin comes running down the stairs with a giddy grin and jumps right through it--and at her shriek of it being so cold, you and Eddie both join in to try it and end up running around on the wet grass, laughing and flicking water at each other like children. It's not terrifying like you thought it would be, and you don't immediately break down like you did the first few months of taking showers after the watergate incident. It's the first time in a long time you've been so carefree. It's been even longer since you've thought of a moment as a memory you want to keep forever, of Eddie grabbing you from behind and kissing your cheek under the cool spray, and of you and Robin holding hands and shrieking as he picks the sprinkler up and chases you with it. That feeling ends, though, when you slip on the grass and tumble to the ground with her in tow, a sharp twang of pain running up the side of your calf from nowhere.

"You guys okay?" Eddie calls out, dropping the sprinkler and walking over to where you're laid out on your back, Robin scrambling to sit up at your side like she hadn't also fallen victim to the slippery ground.

"Yeah, I'm good--just fell!" You manage a lighthearted giggle, because that pain you felt is already dull, and you're sure it was just a twig or something that scratched you.

"You're bleeding," But Robin's voice tremors, her dulled and painted nails hovering over your calf as you bend your knee to pull it up. Disbelief runs through you at first--but with a glance and a double take, you realize she's right. You've got a long, thin cut up the side of your leg, and although it's clearly too shallow to do much damage, it's deep enough for blood to pool at the surface of your skin and start trailing downwards in little rivulets. She's stiff right now, and her eyes say too much--they spell out danger, and your first instinct is to cup her cheek in your hand and try to talk her down.

"It's okay, Robbie--calm down, okay? Just breathe."

"You're bleeding...." It pains you even worse because you know exactly what she's thinking, you know the place she's at right now, and it's not gonna be pretty if she doesn't come back to earth and starts reliving all those horrible days you left behind.

"Robin, it's fine, sweetheart. It doesn't even hurt. It's not deep, you don't need to worry, I'm totally fine." She shakes her head--she can't tear her eyes away from the sight of your blood. "Remember what the doctor said? Worst thing you can do is panic? So don't panic, my love."

By the time she's struggling to keep her breaths even, Eddie's knelt down at your side to assess what he just heard. A warm, wet hand grazes your calf to take a look, and you can tell by the shuddered breath he inhales that he's trying really hard not to join Robin in freaking out.

"Let's...let's get you inside. Robin, go-"

"I-I'll get Nancy!" Her assumption is thankfully correct, and she tears off across the lawn to run up into the house, probably taking the stairs two at a time just to get to your girlfriend and boyfriend faster. Eddie sighs, and pulls your arm around his shoulders to help you up, barely letting you put any pressure on your injury as he leads you into the house. Past the front door, towards the kitchen, and helps you up to sit on the nearest chair that he pulls out for you.

"Eddie, I'm fine. Really," You gesture towards the cut--which really is more like a scrape--but you know better than to move your leg or try to get up. Sometimes, as much as you love them, your partners just won't see reason.

"I know. I know you're fine, but...but if you're not-"

"This isn't the same thing. This isn't Vecna." He shudders at the mere mention of the name, but it's the truth and you're not going to just let them flip out. To keep him from pacing, and because you hope it might help, you grab hold of his hand. Upstairs, you can hear animated chattering and then the scraping of chairs, like whoever it was that got up did so in an enormous hurry. "No clocks, no ticking, no visions. Just a cut."

Eddie nods in agreement, but you're not so easily persuaded. "Just a cut." He repeats, his other hand coming up to rub your head and carefully, sweetly stroke your hair.

"Baby!" The two of you both jump when Steve comes skidding into the room, having leapt nearly over the entire banister just to land with a thud and dash in. Nancy and Robin aren't far behind, equally as hurried as they come to crowd around you with panic-stricken looks on their faces. Steve drops to his knees at once to take a look at the cut, while Nancy peers over his head and thankfully breathes a deep sigh of relief when she sees how calm you are.

"Why are you soaked?" Are the first words that come out of her mouth, and only then does it click. Your chest tightens a little, and you feel a cloud hanging over your head, but it makes sense. It wasn't just the cut, or the blood--it's the fact that you're also drenched, your clothes clinging to your skin and your body wracked with a chill that pierces you through the bone.

That night on Lover's Lake was much the same. You'd never been much afraid of boating or swimming, but those circumstances were different--that was when you thought your alternating crushes on your friends were the most painful thing to deal with, back when you kept switching from one to another. From Eddie to Nancy to Steve to Robin and back again, wondering what the hell was wrong with you and why you were so whipped you'd join them on a dinghy in the middle of the night, just to check something out that they swore was something they could never fully explain. You just had to see it, and you'd been so determined to help them that you wouldn't be left behind.

But you did a lot more than seeing when you leaned over the side to look down at whatever 'gate' Steve had found as he clung to the edge of the boat, drenched and handsome as ever. Even though you struggled to piece your memories back together after the ordeal was over, you remember squinting your eyes at a shadow flitting under the water and praying it was just a fish. Nancy's voice had cut through the chatter to ask you what was wrong--and then your arm went under as a tendril burst out to hook around it, and Eddie's hand shot out to grab your hoodie, but you were gone before you could even scream. The boat had rocked from side to side and you heard muffled yelling, screaming of your name that you couldn't call back to. Steve's fingers had grazed your ankle in a flash to catch you as you were yanked through the murk, but even he could do nothing as you were thrust through watergate and thrown into another world, one you never would have believed in if you hadn't been forced to.

After that, you still have only bits and pieces you can recall of the ordeal. Flashes of blood and veiny wings spread out against a crimson sky are the worst, they're the visions you try to forget, especially since you associate them with some of the most biting, stinging agony you've ever felt in your life--at your hips, your legs, and your neck, all of which still bear prominent scars. Choking, you remember choking for so long, until you blinked and Steve was above you--his palms thrusting painfully into your chest, and your throat flooding with water and bile that you spat all over the ground. You remember stumbling through some overgrown forest, the flash of a bike light, cloth being pulled tight around your stomach, and being slumped over someone's back as you rode down semi-familiar streets, but that's the most you can bring to your memory. They've always told you it would be better not to try--that you don't want to remember all the horrors they encountered there. That you don't want to wake up. Wake up.

"Wake up!"

You manage to mumble out a single, incoherent word, before a chord splits through the muffled quiet of your mind and you clap your hands over your ears, bass thrumming so loud you feel like your brain's bouncing around inside your skull. It's not totally inaccurate though, because there's an ache in your neck and fingers painfully dug into your shoulders as whoever it is stops shaking you, yells for the music to be shut off, and then worriedly encourages you to open your eyes.

"Huh?" Still completely dazed, you hone in on two warm, sweet-looking brown eyes when your own blink open, before zoning back out and letting yours wander towards every angle of the room. Your head is almost lolling back, trying to get a glimpse of anything out of the ordinary--anything that would reveal that you're still in that other world, and only when you're reassured that everything's real do you look down at Steve's terrified expression. "What's...wrong? Steve?"

Even your voice feels discombobulated, you raise your hand to your neck to touch it, as if you could feel if something was wrong just by feeling it. But it drifts to his throat instead, and you run your thumb over the long scar that's still there--the one that matches yours. Steve doesn't utter a word, just stares up at you from his knees before finally managing to breathe again.

Robin and Nancy are standing over him, and you can see they're just as scared--but Eddie's gone, and before you can ask where he is, his sneakers squeal against the linoleum as he rushes back into the kitchen. In his hands, he's got a tape. The bright sticker on the side of it warns you that it's the one he carries with him everywhere, with nothing but your name written on the tracklist along with Steve's, Robin's, Nancy's, and his own.

"F..False alarm. False alarm." Nancy finally turns back and nods at him, just barely making it to one of the chairs at the table before she collapses into it in a fit of hiccups, like she's trying not to cry and just holding it all in. Robin hits the ground behind Steve and she buries her face in his back, hands clutching at his shirt while his trail down to grab each of yours. It's only in those moments that your senses really come back to you, and you feel an immense wave of guilt settle on your shoulders at what must have looked like a dire situation. You've had those flashbacks before where you've dissociated completely out of the realm of reality--but this must have been a long one, you can feel it, because your body's sore from being jostled so much and your leg is all wrapped up. You've got a towel draped around your neck. You've missed a decent chunk of time, but you're sure it felt like a lifetime for them.

"I'm sorry..." You whimper, hating their body language and their expressions and wishing you could just go back to when you were having fun--and wishing that you would just stop having these episodes already, for God's sakes.

"Don't!" Steve shakes his head, strands of perfect chestnut hair flicking to and fro as he does so. He tightens his grip and pulls your arms closer, a kiss placed on your knuckles in the hope of offering some reassurance. "Don't be sorry--you didn't do anything wrong. This was out of your control."

If Robin wasn't clinging to him, you can sense by his shoulders hunching towards you that he would be moving in for a hug--one of those warm, tight ones that crush you against his hard chest, but couldn't be a better place for you to cry into. You don't really feel the urge to, but surely once some time has passed the reality of what just happened will really hit you. The relative silence in the room is biting into you, and the shakiness of your own voice betrays that. "Are you okay?"

He nods at once, one hand finally moving away to pat Robin's thigh. "Yeah. Little shaky, but I'm okay. You okay, Rob?"

"I'm fine. Just...almost passed out." Robin's voice is muffled in Steve's shirt, but by the comparably calmer sigh that escapes her, you believe it. You turn your head to Nancy, sitting just across the table from you, and reach your newly-freed hand out to clasp over hers. The tight squeeze is enough to say more than she can get out at the moment.

"I'll be fine, soon. I need a minute." She rubs her temples, focusing on breathing in and out and nothing else. Eddie's who you're really afraid for, though, and he's just staring in cold silence from across the room. He only takes one step when you look his way and shoves the tape in his pocket, but after a pause, he takes plenty more to come right up to your side.

"God, I'm glad you're alive," He grabs both sides of your face, and tilts your head up to plant the sweetest, deepest kiss on your lips. He tastes of smoke and sweat, bitterly warm on your tongue as he shows you his affection--something you thought you'd never get when you were sure you had died. "Never letting you go again."

It sits there in the air. Never letting you go. You've heard it in movies and read it in books, although you thought that if you ever heard someone say that to you, it would be.....well, it wouldn't be like this. But it quirks a smile up on your lips at the thought that this is what you've got, this is the reward you've been given for following your heart straight into death. At least you can say you're nothing if not loyal, even though you sometimes feel like you're just....crazy. Like you belong in the nuthouse. They've tried to reassure you you're not, but there's always that inkling in the back of your head. The looks people in the town give you when you go out don't help, either--especially the ones that boldly declared you as one of Eddie's failed victims. That one was especially hard to overcome.

"I...okay. I'm gonna go bring the sprinkler in." Eddie's hands linger on your face, and he seems to evaluate something for a moment before giving in, and pressing another delightfully wet kiss to your mouth. Only after that can he break away, and get himself walking towards the front door--mumbling quietly all the while that he's gonna find whatever hurt his baby and make it pay. To think, this is the man people thought had tried to sacrifice you....how ludicrous.

"Yeah, um...S-Steve, c'mon." Nancy, finally managing to pull herself together, gestures towards him in a way they both seem to understand--and you let out a squeak when he gets to his feet, and slides his arms around your waist to haul you up in a bridal carry, while Robin uses him to pull herself up and messily dry the tears she was hiding.

"H-Hey, it's okay! I can walk-"

"Nope." Steve interjects, waiting for Nancy to take Robin gingerly by the arm and lead her towards the stairs, whispering low enough into her ear that you can't make out what she's saying. Your girlfriend seems to start perking up when she hears it though, so whatever reassurances she's offering, they must be pretty good. "While Sir Eddie is securing the yard, you're gonna be spending some time with us." He raises his brows, that smoldering wink shooting sparks of youthful giddiness into your belly. It's hard not to smile and give in when he's being coy--the flirt in him just always manages to capture your heart, even when he's carrying you up the stairs despite you being certain you can do these things on your own. "Nance still has to finish her article, so we'll just hang out with her til it's done, kay?"

As he reaches the top step, you hear the distinct clanging of something being thrown around in the area of the garage, Eddie's distant swearing filtering through the open windows all over the house before he slams the door shut. Knowing him, he probably got all caught up in the hose and tripped himself, the visual of which evoking a laugh from you that nearly startles Steve as he walks with you into the master bedroom. Nancy's got her desk in there with all of her papers, photos, and notebooks scattered all over the top, a lamp on a bendable frame aimed from above so she can arrange things as precisely as she likes. She's already eased Robin into the bed, a kiss pressed to her forehead that she leans right into--and when Steve comes around the other side and slowly sets you down beside her, she's quick to pull an arm around you and nuzzle herself right into your side to get nice and comfortable.

"It's not gonna take too long, okay?" Nancy glances over her shoulder to look at you after she takes her seat, the second chair by her side soon giving a squeak as Steve drops himself into it. "I just have to organize the spread so I can send it in. Then we'll do something fun, okay?"

Her content smile feels more hollow than usual--you can kinda tell when she's masking her feelings to make everyone else comfortable, versus when she's really showing her emotions. But that's to be expected after what she just went through, so you're not about to pry. Usually it's a lot harder for them to vent to you than it is to each other, because they've admitted themselves they're sensitive to putting too much stress on you, and the doctor himself had warned you to avoid straining yourself lest your heart give out on you. That's a big worry for them too....worrying about you.

Soon enough, though, Eddie comes hustling up the stairs and bursts into the bedroom, narrowly avoiding a frustrated jab when he almost sweeps a pile of scribbled notes off the table--but he looks happy, sweaty and happy, and kicks off his sneakers to climb into bed next to you with a bowl full of cut fruit in his hands. He sets it delicately in your lap, having haphazardly tossed handfuls of the little cubes into it out of the tupperware containers Nancy was keeping them in, and pops a chunk of pineapple in his mouth with an uncanny grin.

"Showed that branch who's boss," He declares proudly through a half-chewed mouthful of fruit, before nuzzling your cheek with his nose and stuffing some more into his gob. It's a convenient way to distract you from Robin's fidgeting, as well as Nancy and Steve's hushed conversation that he glosses over by blabbing on about his newest potential escapades that he's got ideas for regarding the next Hellfire campaign. The best thing to do for you after an episode is give you something positive to focus on, they've found, and Eddie's pretty good at finding things to talk about that just hook you right in and keep you attentive to him, and little else.

You're not delicate, after all, you're strong. But the world has proven to be quite unkind to you, and clearly you've had too much exposure to those things that remind you of that awful, awful day. So does it not make sense to keep you safe, and take all those potential dangers away? It's not like you'll be lonely, after all. You'll have them! And that's all you need--just them.

she’s mine ; george x reader

(L-R) John Lennon, George Harrison, Pete Best, Paul McCartney and Stuart Sutcliffe at the Indra Club, Hamburg, 17 August 1960

request: 25. w/ George? 25- “You so much as touch a single hair on her/his head, I will tear your spine clear out of your body.” a/n: why do i always have the same plot???? like ur friends with a beatle and surprise, they like you lol pairing: george x reader summary: you visit george, your friend, in Germany and his bandmate, Stuart flirts with you. george doesn’t like that and he reveals something warnings: swearing year: 1960 word count: 785

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Anything For You - Yandere!Yuta X Chubby!Reader

Yandere AU

Genre: Mature, Horror, Angst, Smut (Very Passionate, Much Desire)

Pairing: Yuta X Reader

Words: 23,040

Warnings: Minor Fatphobia, Self-Esteem Issues, a long ass rant about beauty standards, mentions of mental health and a brief mention of suicide (in passing, really), a few instances that could be interpreted as eating disorders. This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.

A/n: I am both super excited and nervous about this one! I will say, I am really proud with how this one turned out, and as this is the third time I am writing this post out, I really hope it works this time lol. I do apologize for taking so long to post, it turned out way longer than I anticipated, but I think it’s well worth the wait. I do not think Yuta would ever act like this, this is just my interpretation of the archetype (and also a very self indulgent fic). As always, feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy!~

Disclaimer: Everyone has their own definition of what they consider to be chubby. As a chubby person myself, I kept this in mind while writing, and did my best not to incorporate specific markers on the OC’s appearance. Just know that while there aren’t many explicit physical markers of the how chubby the reader is (other than the mention of plush thighs once, I think), this fic is meant to be read with the intention that the reader is chubby. Does this mean you cannot read this fic if you are not chubby or do not consider yourself chubby? Of course not!! I just thought that this was important to let you know. I also 1000% do not condone yandere behaviour.

This one is for the ones who feel like they cannot fit into a certain ideal or beauty standard society has deemed the norm. This one is for the ones that have felt, or continue to feel unworthy or deserving of love because of their weight, and/or how they look. This is for anyone who needs it.

This one’s for me.

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TW: dubcon, noncon, blackmailing, threats of revenge porn.

karina who's been wanting to hook up with you for a while now but you always seemed to be more interested in ning, so when she finally gets you drunk enough and has the opportunity to fuck you she doesn't waste the chance to snap a couple of pics as you cum: she takes both close ups of your face as you orgasm and a few ones of your full naked body. she bites her lip as she stares at her phone, knowing she'll also save those for when she misses you later <3 she's so happy because now anytime she wants to fuck you she doesn't even have to ask! she'll just show you the pics and that's all she needs to do to get you in her bed all in fours, you curse her but she laughs because it's hilarious how you can be so brave when you're this drenched for her lmao she does not believe a word you say when you tell her she's sick or when you cry for her to stop. of course she also takes more of those pics any time you two fuck, but now it's basically just for her own enjoyment. imagine her eating you out and recording it, spitting in your cunt just to slurp it back, making fun of you for being this wet, and lapping at your clit even when you try to move her head away because it's too much and she smiles, perfect heart shaped lips and chin drenched in your cum. she's definitely sending you that video later when you're away and she's bored. that's the most effective way to get you to do what she wants. it's not blackmailing, it's just encouragement for when you forget who exactly you're saying no to ;) (she's too possessive to even think about sharing those with anyone so you're not that worried but she's also a bit insane so you decided it's better to not test her)

(THE AMOUNT OF FUCKING DELAYS I'VE HAD WITH THIS FIC IS INSANE.)

☆ Quit undressing me with your eyes!!

Yandere! '12 Michealangelo x Reader

Tws/cws: Yandere behaviour, AFAB reader, sexual innuendos, obsessive/posessive tendencies, sexual content, masturbation, nonconny thoughts, rape fantasies, Mikey got mad intrusive thoughts :3

Smut written by a minor, dni if uncomfortable.

Even though he's a teenager, Michealangelo never really got any sexual thoughts, that until he met you.

He's never ever thought or Shinigami or Renet in such lewd ways, but you...you were different.

He can't even look at you without being plagued by the thought of bending you over the nearest ledge and fucking you absolutely stupid.

Your beautiful face, your lovely curves, your bubbly personality - literally EVERYTHING about you got his dick hard.

But like, how could he not? You just looked absolutely gorgeous just sitting there comepletely oblivious to every fucked up and lewd thought going through his head.

You have no idea how much he wants to shove his cock down your throat, or force himself into you, with you holding onto him grabbing and clawing at whatever you can, begging him to stop, screaming for help only for no one to come to your aid.

Your teary eyed expression full of dread turning into one of ecstasy. Your sobs turning into pleasure filled moans, motivating him to fuck you even harder.

.

.

.

"Mikey?"

He snapped out of his thoughts and looked at you. You were smiling at him with a bit of concern plastered on your face. "You're staring again, heh.." you laughed nervously, darting your eyes to the couch, "Hey, I bought you guys pizza!"

Quickly forgetting the vile imagery of you in his head, he grinned and bounced in the couch excitedly at the thought of his favourite food.

"Aww thanks dudette!" The turtle pulled you into an embrace, freezing as he feels your tits agaisnt his plastron.

Oh what he'd give to breed the fuck out of you right now. ♡

You pull away from the hug after a moment and pat Mikey on his head. "I'm gonna go hang out with Donnie in the lab, cya man!" Yeah that's probably be best for your safety anyway. Michealangelo doesn't think he could hold himself back much longer.

"Cya later dudette!" He waved at you as you left the living room, leaving him alone with his thoughts once more.

Oh.

And a box of pizza!

Whew. That took a lot out of me to finish 👁👁

Alright I hope y'all enjoy lmfao

walk me home (tmnt x gender neutral!reader)

haven’t written for the guys in a while and i’m a sucker for hurt/comfort, so here’s the result!

also, this one’s a little hard to tag because you can honestly interpret it however you wish - purely platonic, implications of romance with your favorite turtle, poly!turtles, whatever. enjoy!

You’re kidnapped by the Foot Clan on a sunny Saturday afternoon. 

Snatched off the street, stuffed in an unmarked van and blindfolded, you quickly lose track of where they’re taking you, and your only attempt to glean some information is swiftly discouraged by a fist to your jaw. 

You lose track of time from there, the only information available to you restricted to what you can hear, smell, and feel: the astringent scent of chemicals, the voices of your captors barking orders at each other, the cold concrete of the holding cell you’re tossed into and the scratch of the rope binding your wrists.

Your jaw hurts, the chill of your makeshift cell sinks into your bones and leaves you shivering, but you’re not afraid. Not really. You know the boys will come for you. 

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Waking up to wet sounds when you live with puppy!steddie. And when you open your eyes one of them is licking inside your mouth and the other is licking out your cunt. Although you suppose they both had a shot down there

hybrid au faq

this post is 18+ and dark, minors dni. (dubcon; somnophilia)

the messiness and the sloppiness and the drool... *wistful sigh*

hnngh you're so groggy that your body's not awake yet so you're trying to figure out what the sound is and then you start feeling something wet and warm and really good down below. you open your eyes to try and figure out what's going on but you can't see anything past two inches in front of your face!! eddie's got his hands on your cheeks and he's straddling you, more your stomach than your pelvis, though, because steve needs room. you can taste your arousal on his tongue as he laps at your own, tail thumping happily against the mattress. he catches your eyes fluttering open and he's all of a sudden even more eager, drool slipping down your chin as he licks his own into your mouth. you let out a moan, hazy with sleep, but it peters out into a whine when you feel steve suck on your clit. You try craning your head up and over eddie's shoulder but he chases your mouth, tongue smearing saliva against your cheek as he fights to continue - you catch a glimpse of steve before eddie's messy curls are in your way again, and you feel his tongue lap up the drool pooling under your tongue. you hum as steve ravages you, grunting and groaning as he's licking up the remains of the orgasm eddie had prompted from you and building up a new one just below your belly. you reach around eddie as best you can to scratch at steve's floppy ears and you feel him tilt his face in your hand to lick your palm in a very messy good morning, a sticky stain left on your skin as he goes back to making out with your sloppy cunt - you feel him lap your slick all the way up to your clit, smearing it over the sensitive bud, then he sucks it clean and goes back to fucking his tongue into your hole - you suppose it's just the fact that it's your second orgasm of the morning but it hits you like a freight train, a steady build of pressure that bleeds out of you in a wave of cum that you're surprised doesn't splatter onto steve's face from how deeply he's buried inside of you - you have to stop scratching at his ears as you come down from your high because the moans that you'd let out while cumming had made eddie even more excited, and you're starting to gag on his tongue - you give steve one last good scratch and tug his shirt towards you as you retract your hand, prompting him to join you on the bed. when you get your hand back you gently push at eddie's cheeks, keeping him at a reasonable distance so that you don't choke on his tongue anymore - steve nudges his way into the kiss as well and his chin and tongue are still glistening with your slick, you can taste yourself on his tongue as he licks his way into your mouth for a kiss of his own. eddie shifts his focus at the taste, tongue rolling over steve's own to clean him up, and trailing to his chin when the hybrid realizes there's more mess there. you're given momentary peace as eddie cleans up steve's face, chest heaving as you process what you woke up to - as soon as steve's sufficiently clean eddie turns back to you, licking up a smear of drool that had seeped down your chin. he tucks his face into your neck as he starts calming down, scooting back to his own side of the bed so that steve can have his. you wrap your arms around them both as they snuggle into you and thank them for waking you up so nicely, their tails thump against the mattress as they tell you you smelled and tasted so good, they just couldn't help spoiling you <333

Hi Cloud ☁️ I just want to say I love your stories they always make me feel happy and horny 😉 I love how your write for plus-sized/chubby people. If you don’t mind can I request skinny yandere boyfriend asking his girlfriend to sit on his face?

mmm all my nonnies are so smart <3. remember ladies, if he dies, he dies. to die by thigh is the way of a warrior ☁️

your wish is mama cloud's command <3

(gentle reminder that mama cloud does not condone real life acts of "yandere" behavior. do not harm the people you love and do not harm the people that love your person. this is all fiction and should stay that way.☁️)

so let's talk about your bf eating u out on your shared couch as punishment <3, you've already cum several times that evening n even though he's been going for hours, his tongue never slowed. your face is stained w tears, you're trying your best to pull his head away, only for him to slap your thighs n give u a warning glare.

ofc you just had to speak to an old classmate while the two of u were on a date, didn't you? even now, he's still seething with anger from watching that guy eye-fuck you. how dare he?! his precious angel is his and he can't- won't let anyone take you from him!

soon his movements get even rougher n more depraved <3, he's grabbing the backs of ur knees to get deeper into your sopping cunt, but it just! isn't! enough!!! he needs to remind you who's the only one who can eat you out n leave you breathless. When he pulls away, his mouth dripping from your arousal, you think hes finally gonna give you a break!!

oh how wrong you are, angel <3

he's climbing on the couch with u, leaning closer to your ear slowly. you think hes gonna praise you? oh no no noo. he's telling you to stand up now. you still need to be reminded of who you belong to. once you stand and he gets in position, your cute lil protests n whines die almost instantly with a dangerous look he shoots you.

he's pulling you to him by your wrist, pulling you down that that you're sitting just below his face. be a good girl. sit on his face. he pushes you forward with the hands he has on your ass, sticking out his tongue to flick your clit, making you jolt n moan. begging him to please give you a break :(.

ofc he's not gonna! he loves you sm, but he can't let you forget it <3. just let him make u cum a few more times n maybe you can take a break :)!! he's finally got you on his face, his mouth sucking harshly on your overstimulated clit, your arousal dripping down your thighs and onto his face. yes this is what he wanted!

his hair is all messed up, his face is red n burning up, n his tongue never slowed, either playing w your clit or fucking up into your sopping hole. he doesn't care much his lungs beg him for a break! you need to be reminded of who can make you feel this good!!!

ofc he drinks in all of your release! he loves all things you'll give him, angel <3 he's getting drunk on your essence n he's no where near finished.

now be a good girl n sitt pretty on his face while you tell him just exactly who you belong to <3

facesitting is so yes????? yes i will sit on your face??? yes i will probably suffocate u but it's ok just tap if u need air <3☁️

dom donnie will be the end of me and i'll go happily

please that boy got me FUCKED UP. I could never get into sub!donnie…. He’s just a tiddy loving dom in my eyes.

What I love most about it is that, he doesn’t even expect HIMSELF to be acting that way LMAO. Of course when he gets himself off he is imagining himself as the dominate one, he just didn’t think to the extent of being so aggressive.

I don’t think any of his brothers would be as surprisingly demanding like that, especially with him being a head-pusher. Raph, Leo, and Mikey are all going to be gentle as they possibly can.

Praising you and getting lost in watching you struggle to fit them inside your mouth. But Donatello? Their nerdy brother?? The same guy who stutters when you show any skin, who almost fainted when you bent over in front of him in that short skirt of yours and he could barely see the bottom of your ass cheeks.

Yeah, that’s the same guy who pushes the back of your head down the first time you suck him off so the tip of his dick can hit the back of your throat and he can listen to you gag.

The noises you make from it make his cock twitch in your mouth. He also likes pulling your hair to pull you on and off, face-fucking you to put it simply.

But after all is said and done, and he’s covered your tits in his cum, he’s going to apologize for his rough behavior. He never says sorry *during* the act, but afterwards he’s a whole different person???

“I’m so sorry, angel. I don’t know what came over me it just felt so good, I’ll never do it again I promise”

Meanwhile your head feels like it’s full of cotton, lips and mouth all tingly from the harsh acts. Panties drenched in your slick, you mostly likely came in the middle of it or along with him. Dried tear-stains on your face.

You probably aren’t even listening to him ramble, just feeling so spacey and fuzzy. You look down at your chest, taking your pointer finger to wipe some of his spunk onto it. He watches you put it in your mouth, sucking on it with a little whimper.

You look up at him with your misty, fucked out eyes, “Thank you”

He can already feel his cock twitching back to life.

rise & s(h)in(e)

belphegor x f!reader

summary: you accidentally fall asleep in Belphegor’s bed, and when you wake up, innocent morning snuggling is clearly the last thing on either of your minds.

word count: 2.2k

content: 18+ ONLY, NSFW, smut, fingering, handjob, oral fixation, tail kink, biting kink, unprotected p in v, morning sex, creampie, cockwarming, referenced poly relationships, referenced consensual somnophilia

When you rouse from sleep, you’re momentarily disoriented as lazily you reach out to swipe your D.D.D. off of the end table beside your bed, only to find your hand limply swatting at empty air. Cracking open one bleary eye, you quickly realize you’re not in your room. As if in answer to the silent question ringing in your head, a warm huff of air curls against the back of your neck.

Belphie.

A jolt of panic floods your veins when you realize you must have fallen asleep while lying in his bed in the attic watching movies with him last night. Your face heats up with embarrassment, and you’re just about to attempt to slip out from under the covers when an arm snakes around your waist.

Belphegor’s tired, gravelly voice mumbles against your hair, “Where are you going?”

So much for avoiding an awkward moment.

Turning your head slightly to glance back at Belphie, you offer him a weak smile. “Sorry for the uh…impromptu sleepover.”

He frowns when you go to move again, pulling you flush against the heat of his body, and it’s a battle not to melt back into his touch. “You think I’m upset about that?”

“Well…” you trail off, and he lets out a contrary noise.

Belphie noses the back of your neck, sending a shiver of delight down your spine, and you can feel the smile on his face as his lips gently make contact with your skin. “Let’s stay in bed a little longer.”

Your heart flutters in your chest at his insistence, and you press your face into the pillow as you grin. But while it comes as no surprise that the Avatar of Sloth is in no rush to peel back the covers of his plush duvet, it’s only when you finally allow yourself to press back into his solid frame that you realize perhaps going back to sleep isn’t quite what he had in mind.

You’ve spent more nights than you’d care to admit sprawled naked across the lush sheets of your bed at the House of Lamentation, fingers desperately plunging into the heat between your thighs, Belphegor’s name a near-silent prayer on your lips. Because despite the way most of the demons and otherworldly beings at RAD have become more than a little bit enamored with you during your time in the Devildom, the one curled up in bed with you now has been the most aloof, leaving you to eagerly crave the rare moments where flirtatious comments fall from his lips, when you can spy a brief flicker of desire flare up in his violet eyes, when his fingers linger a moment longer than necessary against your own. 

And now, you’re belatedly realizing that the fantasy of your fingers was a far cry from the large, firm shaft pressing heavily against your backside. The embers of desire that have long-since been burning for Belphie now flare red-hot in your gut, and you nearly whimper out loud as your pussy weakly clenches down on nothing in response. 

If Belphie were one of the others, you might drag this out. You might roll over and lazily kiss him for a little while first, like you did with Beel. Or perhaps you’d tease him and make him work for it—which you’d shamelessly done with Solomon. While you hold the sound in, you nearly snort at the memory of Lucifer insisting on taking you out to dinner first before he ended up fucking you right there in the entryway of the House of Lamentation after you’d returned anyway—much to the dismay of Satan, who happened to be on his way upstairs with his nose buried in a book. 

But Belphie.

Bephie.

Fuck, you’re so wet already.

Running late for your movie night, you’d hurried over to Belphie’s room fresh out of the shower, only realizing after you’d stepped inside that you’d forgotten to slip on a pair of underwear beneath the soft, cotton shorts hugging your hips. Now, unhindered by the extra material, you can feel a slick trail of arousal leaking from your cunt and sopping into your shorts.  

You can lay in bed lazily kissing Belphie all that you want later, carding your fingers through his soft hair as a low grumble of contentment escapes his pouty lips. You’ll let him indulge in every inch of you with a type of greed that would make Mammon look generous.

But now? 

Right now, while each and every one of your nerve endings is still pleasantly sensitive from the soft edges of sleep lingering in your system, you need to feel him inside of you. You can’t wait any longer.

And when you finally rock back into him, grinding your ass against his erection, Belphie gets the message loud and clear. He hums, pleased, and you can feel the vibration reverberate in his chest. Fingers beginning to roam across the expanse of skin beneath the t-shirt you’d fallen asleep in, Belphie makes a beeline for your breasts, eliciting a whine from you as he begins to massage them.

“You like it when I touch you here?” he asks, voice a quiet rasp. 

He experimentally rolls your peaked nipples between his digits, and all you can do is nod in response.

“But what about here?” 

His hand trails down your stomach, dipping just below the waistband of your shorts, and you can hear the audible hitch in his breath when he realizes you’ve forgone underwear entirely. 

Chuckling, he slowly slides his fingers lower. “Did you forget something?”

One hooked digit reaches out, gently dragging against your swollen clit.

“It was an accident,” you breathe out, far too aroused to try to lace any faux innocence into your tone.

“Hmm,” Belphie muses, running his teeth along the nape of your neck. “Are you sure? Because I swear I’ve heard you whining my name in your room late at night.”

Fuck.

Before you can come up with a witty comeback, he adds, “Sometimes I can hardly make it back to my own room before I start touching myself thinking about those cute little sounds you make.”

Oh.

Rocking into his touch, you reply, “Why didn’t you ever just knock?”

You can almost hear the smirk on his face as he answers, “Because I wanted to wait until you’d had your fill of everyone else first to show you what you’ve really been missing.”

At that, you feel the tip of Belphie’s tail brush against your leg, and there’s something undeniably possessive about the way it wraps around your bare thigh, the normally prickly areas along it now flat and soft to the touch as it caresses you. 

“So fucking wet for me,” he murmurs with a groan as he slides two fingers through your slick folds. 

“Belphie, please,” you whine, pressing down against his digits.

“If I’d have known you were this impatient, I would have let you wake up with me inside you,” he whispers against the shell of your ear, and you know the words are more of a question than a statement. 

“Next time,” you confirm, cunt already aching with anticipation at the thought of Belphie sliding his cock into your needy hole while you’re still asleep. And because you know what your words will do to him, you add, “You’re the only one that I’ll let do that.”

A small growl of pleasure crawls up his throat at the admission, and he heeds your desperation by plunging two fingers into your pussy.

“Belphie,” you moan, biting your bottom lip hard as his dexterous digits curl inside of you.

“I love it when you say my name,” he rasps, letting your arousal coat his palm as he fucks you with his fingers.

But even after he adds a third digit, it’s still not enough to quell the ravenous desire rapidly crawling up and down your spine. When you reach back to grasp his cock through his sleep pants, Belphie groans, rocking his hips into your touch. As you begin to push down both layers of fabric covering his shaft, he’s quick to shove them off, his length hot and heavy in your hands when you begin to pump it.

The lazy confidence in Belphie’s voice falters as you stroke his cock, and he gasps your name when you slide your thumb over the bead of precum leaking from the tip. 

“Wanna fuck you,” he pants, jerking into your touch while he continues to stroke the wet walls of your cunt. 

In response, you tug aside the loose hem of your shorts, not even bothering to shuck them off. You push yourself back into Belphie’s cock, keening at the feeling of the head bluntly pressing against your damp slit, and he pulls his sticky digits from your cunt to tightly grasp your hip.

The sound that leaves your mouth is somewhere between a gasp and a strangled moan when he begins to ease the gratuitous length of his cock into your wet hole, your cunt greedily clenching down on each and every inch as he stretches you open. 

Morning sex, by default, is always a wonderful affair of tired, tender pleasure that never fails to leave your toes curling and your back arching as your heavy eyelids are nearly on the verge of fluttering shut once more. 

But with Belphie?

With Belphie, it’s more than you could have ever imagined.

Once he stuffs his shaft in to the hilt, he begins to ease it back out again, soon falling into a steady rhythm pushing and pulling through your tight, clenching walls. And there’s just something about the way he holds you, the way his fingers flutter across your collarbone, lips pressing chaste kisses along the side of your neck, his hair tickling your cheek, the whispers of your name leaving his lips. 

You’re still so tired and sensitive, and Belphie knows it. 

He revels in it, your whimper as he presses a kiss to the sensitive patch of skin just below your ear before dragging his teeth along the hinge of your jaw. The breathy pant when he teasingly pulls his cock out and drags along your wet slit for but a moment (and the quiet, choked out moan that follows when he slides it back in).

“So fucking tight,” he groans at the slick sound of his length being swallowed into the warmth of your pussy again. “I’m not gonna last.”

Any stray, wandering thoughts you’ve had in the past about the dexterity of Belphie’s tail are obliterated at the feeling of it brushing over your sex. With the soft end resting against your stomach, he presses the solid part into your clit, moving it in a circular motion as he continues to fuck you.

“Holy shit,” you moan at the added stimulation, the pleasure slowly creeping through your abdomen now dripping through your limbs like molten lava. He increases the pressure, shifting the hand gently resting against the side of your neck to cup your jaw. At the feeling of his thumb sliding over your bottom lip, you can’t help but dart your tongue out, and you hear a pleased sound in your ear as Belphie experimentally prods with his pointer and middle fingers.

“Fuck,” he breathes out when you readily take his fingers into your mouth, sucking on them while your cunt squelches with each stroke of his cock as he massages your sensitive bundle of nerves with his tail. Drool begins to slide out of your mouth and onto the pillow beneath you as you slide your tongue along his digits, the taste of you still lingering on them.

And just when tears are on the verge of slipping down your cheeks from the overwhelming pleasure cresting within you, the thick coil of tension in your gut snaps loose, and you moan around Belphie’s fingers as you writhe with the force of your climax.

Belphie knows you want him to come inside of you, he’s smelled the lingering scent of the others’ leftover spend dripping down your thighs day in and day out. But he asks anyway, only for you to reach behind and tightly grab his hip, nearly impaling yourself on his cock as you force him to bottom out inside of you, silently begging for it. 

And he’s nearly feral with it now—the thought of the two of you going down for breakfast, his cum still sloshing around in your pretty little pussy, eyes half-lidded in your sated state. The conspiratorial look you’ll give him from across the table as you feel his cum soaking into your uniform.

Maybe one of his brothers will try to fuck you afterward, only to find a load of his cum leaking out of you. 

Or maybe he’ll have to take you back upstairs to fill you up one more time himself before class. 

—because now that he’s had you. Belphie’s not sure he’s ever going to be able to get enough.

Belphie can’t help the way his teeth latch onto the soft skin at the junction between your shoulder and neck as his orgasm hits him, and you gasp out in pleasure as he bites down hard while he spills himself deep inside of you. And when he eventually stills, rather than moving away, Belphie just snuggles in closer and wraps his arms around you.

“It’s too early, let’s sleep a little longer,” he yawns, cock still buried inside of your cum-filled cunt as he curls against you and tangles his ankles with yours.

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